


Deathstroke vs The Outsiders

by BlueLightningAndNexus



Series: My DC Universe [5]
Category: Batman and the Outsiders (Comics), Black Lightning (Comics), DCU (Comics), Deathstroke the Terminator (Comics)
Genre: Evil Slade Wilson, Katana is a fucking legend, Supervillain, superhero fight
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-19
Updated: 2020-03-19
Packaged: 2021-02-28 22:28:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,910
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23214784
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BlueLightningAndNexus/pseuds/BlueLightningAndNexus
Summary: Set in 2019. It's been a year since the superhero community went to war with itself and the Justice League fell apart. In the aftermath, teams like the Outsiders are becoming more common.Brion Markov, under the impression his sister Terra was killed by Slade Wilson, is assigned to rescue a group of captured metahumans with the rest of the Outsiders. There, they encounter Deathstroke himself.
Series: My DC Universe [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1669048
Kudos: 4





	Deathstroke vs The Outsiders

Jefferson knew from the first glance that they weren’t going to win this fight. Tatsu suspected a similar outcome. 

See, Deathstroke was the kind of villain that even A-List heroes feared with every fiber of their being. He had no official superpowers, nor was he even a villain in the classical sense; he was just some guy in a mask who just did jobs for money. 

Lots, and lots of money. 

Or, at least that’s what Batman told him. 

Jefferson had only ever seen pictures of the guy, blurry photographs of some tall man in mismatched military-grade armor taking on several people at once. He never thought he would actually have to see him in person, but if he had learned one thing since he joined the Outsiders, it was that anything was possible. He instinctively began to charge up his lightning, feeling it surge through the muscles on his arms and concentrate in his hands. 

“Look,” said the assassin, “this doesn’t need to get messy. You all can just walk away.”

“That’s not happening,” Brion replied immediately. “We have a mission.”

“So do I,” the assassin retorted. 

His voice was deep and gruff, matching his exterior appearance well. He spoke with what seemed like a minor Australian accent, but Jefferson couldn’t tell if he was faking or if that was his natural speaking tone. He wore what looked like an elaborate hockey mask; the right side was black, the left side bright orange. Uniquely, there was only a slit for his eye on the left side; the right side was completely covered. His armor was dark grey, with buckles and pockets on it to keep what could only be presumed were smaller weapons (knives, firearms, maybe even ammo, the works), with thin stripes of orange that matched his helmet. 

He stood atop a shipping crate, snowflakes falling onto his armor and frost gathering on his metal-plated boots. He had the advantage of height, but not numbers. 

“I was ordered to protect the cargo at all costs,” Deathstroke elaborated, “and believe me, I will do whatever it takes.”

His voice seemed to deepen slightly, and he spoke slower and louder, all means of intimidation. But he was only one man, with no significant powers, going up against five metahumans. Surely they would win, right?

Based on what Batman told them, Deathstroke had his reflexes, speed and strength enhanced by military experiments. They needed to be fast, or they would never win. 

Gabrielle seemed to remember as well as Jefferson. She took the first move, but she wasn’t fast enough. She leaped up from her position on the ground, her scarlet aura signaling she was going to use her red halo and incinerate Deathstroke where he stood. 

And he read her like a book. 

The second she rocketed into the air, already activating her halo, he leaped off the crate. His thin stainless steel blade draw from its sheath in his left hand, a tear gas grenade in his right hand, with his pointer finger already in the pin, ready to pull out and trigger at a moments notice. He flew through the air only by the force of his own jump, and before Gabrielle could do anything about it, activate her powers, he was already on top of her, in midair nonetheless. He turned his body to the right while at her, and as Gabrielle tried to activate her halo fast enough to stop him, it was too late; he slammed his foot into her face, cracking her nose and splitting the skin on her forehead and right cheek with his plated boots. Gabrielle barely held onto consciousness, her arms still extended outwards and small bits of blood-red energy still concentrated on her fingertips. Overwhelmed by the ferocity and quickness of his attack, Gabrielle’s halo began to fade. 

Using her as a launching pad, Deathstroke placed his other foot on her chest, before pushing off, rocketing himself down to the surface. Gabrielle flew in the opposite direction, up and backwards in a small arc, before hitting the ground with a dull thud. She was surely unconscious, and would be out cold for the rest of the night. Brion noticed that her face was dark red, but not with her fading energy, but with blood. The sight terrified him. 

Before anyone had any time to say or do anything, the assassin was already on top of them. In the split-second between landing on the ground and making his next move, he threw his smoke bomb with a startling amount of force, still keeping his finger in the ring of the pin; with the force of his throw consequently pulling the pin out. 

The small, metallic sphere hit Emily in forehead, and for a moment, she saw stars, something she thought could only happen in cartoons. A direct hit. Emily was stunned by what happened, too dazed to try to psychically attack Deathstroke or mentally stun him, or even read his mind and figure out whatever the hell he was going to do next. 

Surprisingly, the throw was fast enough and Emily was close enough, only about six and a half, seven meters from Deathstroke; that the bomb hit her before it went off. 

And then it went off. 

Smoke suddenly filled Emily’s world, and her lungs. On top of being unable to use any psychic abilities, her vision was clouded. 

Smart, Tatsu thought to herself. Take out two of our strongest players first. But they still had Jefferson and Brion. 

Not for long. 

Brion and Jefferson activated their powers at the same time, Jefferson’s resolving a split second before Brion’s. A bolt of lightning flew out of his right hand, but Deathstroke ducked at the last second, a soft crackling noise filling the air as it flew past his ear. It was barely even a duck, his legs practically flew out from under him as he crouched beneath the attack, the heat of the electricity scorching the top of his mask. The bolt of lightning would’ve hit Brion directly in the chest had he not activated his powers at the same time; a barrier of earth came between them at the last second, blocking the lightning shot. 

The knockback of Jefferson’s attack was so intense, his right arm flew back slightly. Just enough time for Deathstroke to make his next move. 

Tatsu was farthest away from any of them, having kept guard and been on look-out duty before the fight ensued. She was helpless to do anything, the whole fight had lasted barely eight seconds so far. Had she started running the second she saw Gabrielle move, she might’ve been able to do something about it, but the thought didn’t even occur to her that this man could blow past one of their strongest members so rapidly. I didn’t take action then, she thought as she forced her legs to carry her forwards, but I am now. 

Deathstroke had his whole body arched slightly forward when he crouched, placing his free right hand on the ground to balance himself, his sword still angled upwards in his left hand. This close to Brion, this close to the ground itself...it would’ve been suicide on any other occasion. But, midair, he had planned this perfectly; the barrier of earth Brion made between him and Jefferson, originally intended to slam into Deathstroke, was used instead as a shield from Jefferson’s bolt. Now, obscuring Brion’s sight of anything directly in front of him (like a particular assassin and an electric teammate, for example), Deathstroke had a split-second where Brion couldn’t see him. 

Tatsu had a good sight of Deathstroke, his body angled towards Emily, as a horrifying thought occurred to her: He has us exactly where he wants us. 

Indeed he did. In the split-second opening he had before Brion attacked him, Deathstroke launched himself up in the air, right as Jefferson tried to do a second, consecutive lightning blast. It missed by a half-inch, as Deathstroke flew towards Emily. Another aerial assault, much like he did with Gabrielle earlier. 

His sword moving towards Emily’s still-throbbing head, Deathstroke would’ve had a clean cut, decapitating the vampiress’. Had it not been for Tatsu’s quick action. It happened all at once: she unsheathed her katana at the last second, the blade barely hitting her enemies own. The attack wasn’t blocked completely; rather, it’s trajectory was slightly redirected, with Deathstroke’s sword cutting Emily’s shoulder. She probably would have blocked it better, had Deathstroke’s bomb not gone off a moment ago, making Emily’s position in the smoke unclear and little more than a silhouette. 

Deathstroke hit the ground hard, his free right hand used to cushion the fall. He rolled upon impact, letting him minimize the force of an otherwise strenuous landing. The smoke dissipated as he darted through it, now giving the Outsiders a much-needed sight of their opponent. 

Brion, focus and visual on the enemy returned, activated his abilities once again. Anger building up in his center as he recognized his swift opponent, he let out a furious “I won’t let you hurt her!” as he attacked. What could only be best described as an outpouring of rock came towards Deathstroke, with stalagmites jetting out of the ground at high speed. With Deathstroke still on the ground, in the split-second after his attack against Emily failed; Brion thought he finally had him. 

No such luck. 

Deathstroke, anticipating a counterattack and with his right hand still planted firmly on the ground, pulled his legs forward and pushed himself up on that hand with superhuman pressure. He flew straight up, pushing his body weight forwards once he was a few feet off the ground. One of the stalagmites nicked his armor, leaving a small white line. 

Much to Brion’s eternal fury, his attack barely missed, and the terminator landed on his feet, graceful as a cat. Truth be told, he didn’t even realize what was coming, but he knew staying that close to the ground could be dangerous, and he was right. 

Instantly after landing, Emily’s feet were kicked out out from under her with superhuman reflexes and speed. And just like that, the plan crumbled (pun intended). Emily, no source of balance or stability remaining, fell backwards, her head hitting one of the stone pillars Brion made with his power. She might have invulnerability, but that doesn’t really help when you’re concussed. Much like Gabrielle before her, she was out cold. 

Brion wouldn’t let Deathstroke get the upper hand. He threw all of his pressure into the entire location, the earth trembling before them, splitting and cracking. Large pebbles, splashes of dry mud and sharp stone edges flew out. Tatsu wouldn’t realize it at the time, but one of the edges flew right past her thigh, giving her a small cut. 

The ground shook as Geo-Force opened up the land below Deathstroke’s feet, creating a massive chasm, and for the first time this entire fight, Deathstroke had actually found a worthy opponent. 

“You killed my sister you bastard!” The hero spoke with a vengeful tone that the Outsiders had heard only twice before: in Markovia, and when they were informed that Terra was missing in action after a mission. 

It all clicked together in Slade’s mind, like a puzzle piece you didn’t even know existed fitting perfectly into a picture you didn’t care about. Terra rarely spoke of her family, claiming to be an orphan. That seemed to check out from what Slade knew, but this man claiming to be her brother? The only person he knew of with similar powers to Terra’s was the fabled Markovian monarch. 

The only reason why anyone would be a royal orphan was…

Oh yes, Slade reasoned. Terra was a bastard child the entire time. This man before her is her paternal half-brother. The one called Geo-Force. 

Fueled by this thought, Slade took action, sheathing his sword and reaching for a different weapon as a plan took form in his mind. 

He hopped off his current position on the crumbling ground, landing on one of the pieces of earth that was pushed upwards by Geo-Force’s attack. Unbeknownst to either fighter, Jefferson and Tatsu were trying to close the distance between them and Deathstroke, but found navigating the cracked earth to be a challenge. 

“I remember your sister.” Slade spoke in his signature gruff tone, the first words to escape his mouth since the fight started. “She was quite a fun plaything, but you know how it is.”

He narrowed his one good eye at Brion as he choose his next words carefully, for the sole purpose of hurting the hero. But also to distract him for the small object he was slipping into his right hand. 

“She fulfilled her purpose. Once that was done, I couldn’t do anything but discard her like trash.”

After throwing the flash grenade he carefully slipped into his hand straight up into the air; Slade used his metal bo-staff, planted in the ground in a rift between two heavy rocks, to throw himself up, like an Olympic pole-jumper. He flew across the chasm, leaving the staff behind, as Geo-Force’s temper reached its maximum, and the ground around him reflected this, melting around him almost instantly. 

“Dodge this!” he yelled, his right hand shooting forward, and with it, a massive, truck-sized stream of lava crackling like his temper. 

“Markov, don’t!” Jefferson shouted as loud as he could over the commotion, sprinting to his teammate as he did so. He would’ve liked to strike down Deathstroke where he stood...but the problem was he wasn’t standing. He kept leaping through the air before anyone could realize what was happening. 

Exactly the reaction Deathstroke expected, and the one Tatsu and Jefferson feared. He extended his staff, and the grenade he threw a moment ago lined up with his staff. Slamming it towards Geo-Force like Babe Ruth hitting a baseball, the grenade went off right as Brion, Jefferson and Tatsu noticed it. Instantly, Brion was blinded by light, his stream of lava splitting into two: one flying right over Deathstroke and directly hitting a nearby stack of metal crates, which began to melt on impact; and one landing next to Tatsu, blocking her path for the moment and melting the stalagmites made earlier by Brion. 

Landing next to his temporarily-blinded opponent from the earlier jump over the chasm, Deathstroke ended the short one-on-one with a devastating move; grabbing Brion by the yellow-and-green fabric of his costume, picking him up, and promptly slamming him into the ground with enough impact to be lethal on anyone else. In fact, Deathstroke thought it was lethal; no one ever informed him that Geo-Force had enhanced durability, a trait his half-sister lacked. 

He then began to hear a distinct crackling noise, one he heard early on in the fight. 

“You’ll pay for that,” Jefferson gravely stated, but nonetheless knowing there was a change Deathstroke wouldn’t. When the assassin in question looked up from his latest victim (or so he thought), he was faced with a state Jefferson Pierce rarely experienced: sheer anger. 

Electrical energy black as ink gathering on his forearms, Jefferson fired a shot from both hands at the man that had rapidly taken down so many of his teammates with relative ease. The shot fired would have been enough to stun Superman, had Deathstroke not heard it a moment ago. With no other bombs or long-range weapons, Deathstroke mentally kicked himself for forgetting about Black Lightning, unprepared for the guy to make a comeback and now without enough time to draw his sword. 

Oh, well, he thought, I have no other option. This is the one fight I’m not sure I can win. 

And then he took off. 

Rushing towards his opponent as fast as he could, Deathstroke reached out with his two hands. 

If this fails, I’m screwed. 

Slade didn’t know if he would be able to grab Pierce without getting too close to his arms and being shocked and immobilized, but it was a risk he had to take if he was getting out of this fight alive. 

He ducked under the lightning, a much stronger attack than the ones before it, and grabbed onto Jefferson’s arms, just below the elbow but just above his wrists that he wouldn’t get shocked with the force of a small power plant. Rather than dodging the attacks completely and going in for the kill, Deathstroke pointed both arms upwards, redirecting the attack entirely and filling the night sky with light. 

“Good shot,” he cooly said, now face-to-face with the the second-in-command of a team that barely landed a scratch on him. 

Then he headbutted Black Lightning directly in the center of his face, shattering his goggles instantly and cutting up the hero’s forehead with shards of glass, all without moving either of their arms. The lightning emitting from Black Lightning’s palms finally stopped. 

“Not good enough, however.”

Jefferson Pierce fell to the ground, blood covering his eyes, nose and mouth. The last thing he saw before he blacked out was Tatsu Yamashiro, sword drawn, leaping at the terminator. Jefferson and Tatsu can both safely confirm that the former had a small, smug grin before he fell unconscious. 

And then there were two. 

Tatsu, or Katana as Slade knew her by, wasted no time in using the weapon of her namesake. Her blade, the Soultaker, flew around the air swiftly, its wielder furiously commanding it like a maestro playing the world's angriest symphony. The first slash, Slade barely saw it coming. Between the first and the second, he drew his own sword, just barely in time, as he was hit with a barrage of other attacks. Caught off guard once again (and this time by someone without powers, nonetheless), Slade had to sloppily and hastily parry the next several slashes, barely avoiding a painful transformation into a bloody pile of mince meat. 

The two swordsmen quickly reached a lockout, both of their swords grinding into each other as the final Outsider glared up at her adversary, shifting her position to her left as she spoke. 

“You wear that mask because you’re confident in your abilities.” Tatsu spoke calmly, stating a fact, not asking a question. “You believe that even if you tell your opponents your weakness, it won’t make a difference. It might be a ruse, but it’s probably not: you’ve kept your staff and sword in your left hand this whole time because it’s the only eye you can see out of.”

Uh oh. 

On the last word, Katana acted quickly. It was a gamble, for sure; she might actually be wasting her time, but if he really is blind in his right eye like she thinks, then that means there must be a small area outside of his peripheral vision that he can’t see. No reinforcements are coming, and he’ll probably catch her off balance and kill her if this doesn’t work; so Deathstroke would be free to slaughter the rest of her unconscious team. 

No, it has to work. 

She and Deathstroke had their swords lined up in an x-like shape, but Katana turned her sword into a horizontal angle and pushed it up Deathstroke’s sword. Not much, but it gave her a small opening where he has no guard. 

Katana, mustering all the energy she could into her leg while trying to retain her sword form, and she slammed her ankle into Slade’s groin. The first injury an Outsider dealt to him this entire fight. The impact knocked him back, his sword no longer making contact with Katana’s as he stumbled. 

I’m right-handed, but if he is blind on his right side, I need to switch grips. 

She swung her sword downwards in a semicircle, swapping the positions of her hands as she did so to put more power and control into her left hand, before rushing forward and bringing Soultaker back up. The blade was low enough that Slade wouldn’t have noticed it if he really is blind until it was practically on top of him. 

That’s exactly what happened. He just barely heard the whistle of Soutalker gliding through the air, signaling another slash, before he jumped back. He felt Katana’s weapon prick into his skin, slipping through a gap in the military armor. The cut immediately started bleeding. It would have been much worse had he not leapt back. 

Katana, satisfied that her assessment of her opponent was correct, decided to try again. 

The same trick doesn’t work on Slade Wilson twice, and it didn’t this time: he did notice the follow-up attack but only barely. Still in pain but getting partially balanced again, he quickly changed his stance to prepare for blocking the attack instead of dodging it. What he forgot about, was the handle of his sword. See, the grip on Slade’s sword as the same as Soultaker: big enough for two hands to be holding it at once for extra power. Unlike Soultaker, however, the blade was light enough that Slade didn’t need two hands; a single would suffice, as he demonstrated early on in the fight. This also meant, however, that someone would be able to leverage the weapon if they used a two-handed grip. 

Instinctively, Slade dropped his right hand when Katana kicked him to use as balance, leaving a single hand holding his sword. Unfortunately for Slade, he remembered this too late. 

Katana charged into Slade, who attempted to block it, but she overpowered him easily, driving the edge of her blade further into his own, slightly splitting the steel. As with the grip, Slade wouldn’t notice this split until it was too late. 

“Oh, now you’re getting what’s coming to you!” He yelled, before headbutting Katana, same as he did with Jefferson. Unlike Jefferson, Katana retained an ounce of consciousness. Slade kicked at his opponent’s chest, hoping the force would be even to injure and/or disarm her enough that he could finish her. 

Slade’s fatal mistake in this duel was underestimating his opponent in this moment. 

Thinking he disoriented her, Slade didn’t expect Katana to pull out and use her sheath (still attached firmly to the belt of Katana’s costume) to absorb most of the impact, leaving her quite intact. In the moment, Slade took a final swing of his sword. 

I have to angle this perfectly, they both thought, referring to two very different things. 

For Slade, it was the finishing blow on his opponent, but for Katana, it was something else entirely. 

She arched Soultaker upwards, switching back from her left hand to her right hand, and lined it up with Slade’s sword. The two blades collided once more, Soultaker directly hitting the split Katana created earlier and snapping Deathstroke’s sword clean in half. 

Katana tried to use the momentum of this strike to make a second slash, but Deathstroke jumped out of the way at the last second, Soultaker instead skimming a nearby stalagmite. Katana looked up at her opponent, now standing one a second stalagmite several feet away, and while she couldn’t see it under the mask, she had a feeling he was glaring. 

“Alright,” he said, holding his right hand to the cut Katana gave him earlier, all while retaining a death grip on his now broken sword, which resembled a knife more than anything else. “You win this round. But mark my words: you and I still have unfinished business.” 

And with that, he departed.

**Author's Note:**

> Hi all! I wrote this entire thing in one sitting on a whim, so it doesn't really connect to a whole lot else. But basically, anyone who read my series description knows that these one-shots are set after a superhero civil war; metahumans starting getting captured and sold on the black market, so the Outsiders took it upon themselves to stop this. 
> 
> For anyone not familiar with the Outsiders:
> 
> Black Lightning=Jefferson Pierce
> 
> Geo-Force=Brion Markov
> 
> Katana=Tatsu Yamashiro
> 
> Halo=Gabrielle Doe
> 
> Looker=Emily Briggs


End file.
